


A Strange Affair

by mrbunnyhesayno



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 10:04:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7504174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrbunnyhesayno/pseuds/mrbunnyhesayno
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The year is 1941, with a war enveloping Europe in a firestorm of chaos and devastation. Those watching from afar clung to what it could, as to not be consumed in the smoke and wake of war. Our heroine is a lively girl, full of life and moxie. A down on her luck blues singer who’s out of the job and in an all around position for extortion, in the highest sense of the word. Our hero is a man with his back to a wall, wolfs at the door, and a guillotine threatening to fall. Howard Stark is a man out of time and out of options, that is until he comes face to face with the lovely Jo Buchanan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Strange Affair

The lively music could be heard spilling out of the clubs. It wasn’t uncommon to walk down New York streets these days and have jazz or swing bombard the senses. The year was 1941, war had taken hold of Europe and America was doing all it could to remind itself that the war over the pond had little to do with them at all.

As it was, [Joey](http://the.hitchcock.zone/files/gallery/500/8853.jpg) found herself walking down the muggy New York street. The soul filled voices, loud brass, whining strings, and rhythmic drums, all spilling out mixing in some strange atmosphere out here on the crowded street. Doors thrown open to let some air into the lively dance floors, lights helped shadows dance across the dirty pavement. Hundreds of shining cars and tailored suits moving this and that way, in their own little hurry. Glitz and glam had recaptured New York City and Joey smiled as she walked down the street, avoiding drunken men and unwanted invitations into the Clubs.

Joey could remember, as a child, adults talking about a time when New York City had been alive with color and sound, she was happy for it’s prompt return. She didn’t look out of place, but she did stand out just a bit. Her dress wasn’t set in bright reds or yellows, it was a nice demure navy blue, a practical and not surprisingly cheap color for a girl of her social standing. It was the only dancing dress she owned, second hand at that. Her wispy strawberry blonde hair wasn’t long and curled as was in fashion and the boys cut certainly did not waft behind her as she flitted from Club to Club like the other dames on the street. Her shoes, not the sparkling or shining kind, were actually a throwback to the good ol' days, they had belonged to a girl who didn’t need them anymore, her dancing days done now that she had a kid. Though Joey had dolled up, painted her lips red, and her eyes outlined as she had seen on the silver screen, she knew her hair set her apart from the other dames being whisked about.

“It would never curl like that anyway.” Joey thought to herself as she watched as a beautiful blonde hopped past her on the arm of a stunning man in a three piece suit. Instinctively reaching up and brushing her fingers through her pin straight hair, tucking it behind her ear where it didn’t stay.

The Club she had been looking for, was just up ahead and Joey was starting to feel self conscious, but stamped it down. There was no room for that kind of thinking and damn-it-all if she would let it get her now. She may not have been the prettiest dame in her little Brooklyn neighborhood but she was married to the best looking fella by far in all of New York. Given that boost of confidence that she carried with her and the fact that she never backed down from a losing battle, a lifelong friend had helped her onto that sinking ship. Joey would at the very least do what she came out to do tonight and that was addition at the new night club.

Her will was wavering, however it wasn’t like anyone knew she was out tonight, her best friends were out tonight thinking they had left her at home. They had run off on some weird double date kind of thing, not that it would work. But her not so traditional husband liked to dance and he wanted to see his best friend was with a girl so Joey let it go, if he danced with a pretty dame he danced. She knew whatever happened he was coming home to her. She wouldn’t blame him for anything that happened, it was life. And life was short and messy, she would never fault him for a vice, even if many women in her position would have. They were friends above all and friend was always in the fray with you, thus you never held something as trivial as dames against them.

Yesterday, she had been let go at the factory. The bosses could afford to pay the men now, so they wanted men at factories not women who needed things like shorter work hours and accommodations for their weak constitutions or some sexist ramblings that Joey hadn’t listened to as the foreman spoke yesterday. Joey wasn’t all that great with phones or typing so she fell back on something she was good at. Singing.

She had seen the ad for the club, they needed a new singer, blues if they were honest for those quieter nights when men just wanted to sit and be intimate with the dames. Joey had a set of pipes on her she was told and she figured she should at least give it a go.

She was just about to cross the street when someone grabbed her arm. “Hey doll, you gotta nice face, follow me.” that [someone](http://66.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_makejqbvne1rv1bj0.gif) said. Before she knew it Joey was being hauled into a club she wasn’t meaning to go to. Joey tried to tell him no, but her eyes landed on him and she came up short with words. He looked like a club owner, with his tailored suit, his messy hair, and that smirk of his as he looked over his shoulder. “You got the whole sweet little thing going on don’tcha doll.” he rambled pulling her from the jiving crowd behind a curtain. He was a fast talker and he was going a mile a minute she wondered where he was from as he opened his mouth again.

“Got some blues on ya, don’tcha doll, good thing too that will help.” he pulled her into a room where he finally let go of her, then started to dig into a long line of colorful dresses.

“This is the womans’ dressing room?” a haughty blonde sneered from the vanity. Joey had come to the same conclusion, as she took in the back over stuffed dressing room, the club had little to no reputation and she couldn’t name it. Nor the blonde who was currently glaring at Joey as if she was something vile.

“Go be a good girl and get your act together.” the man snapped. The blonde looked as if she was about to say something nasty but thought better of it, so she snorted and stomped off in a very dramatic fashion. “Don’t mind her, ya know how girls like her get. When someone comes in that can steal their thunder they do all they can to make life hell. So where ya from kid?” he asked holding up a long emerald evening gown, she glared down at the deep V neck line then looked up at him unsure who he really was.

“Brooklyn.” she replied with pride, however he made a tsking sound. His dark near black hair was greased back, in a good rich boy comb over...like a man from the bank Joey passed by on her way to work every day.

“Wrong, always say Manhattan.” he corrected wagging his finger at her. Joey glared not sure if she should be offended or not, he didn't seem to notice. “Brooklyn implies that you might be from outta town, it’s all about being a New Yorker these days kid. Don’t forget that next time someone asks ya. Gotta name?”

“Joey.” she said with a bit of trepidation, he tossed the green dress and grabbed another one. His eyes, were dark brown like dark chocolate, or hard black coffee, they were off setting as if they went on forever fading into some black abyss. That was when Joey realized her heart was racing, and not for the absurdness of this situation that was highly above regular.

“Jo. Nice name kid, gotta ring to it.” he smiled at her, her blue eyes locked on his mouth, a smirk there that told Joey he wasn't like any man she knew or ever would know. He was speaking though and she had missed half of what he was saying, only catching the tail end of his long winded speech.“...though not as feminine as you look, your one of those dames that don’t get pushed around huh.” It wasn’t a question she could tell, he was just talking to fill the air between them. “Gotta last name?” he asked holding up a red dress, tossing it quickly, then grabbed a blue one off the rack and holding it up like he had the others before it.

“King-Barnes...Joey Barns” she stammered, it was a bit hard honestly most people knew just who she was, and she was one or the other to any individual. He however, rolled his eyes handing the dress off to her. She took it reluctantly.

“Not exotic enough, gotta ‘nother name? Something with flare! Something that will turn heads. Tell people you might be someone important.” he was throwing his arms about like he was on stage himself. She gave him a long hard one over nearly wanting to shove him, but figured he was just this way naturally.

“Buchanan?” she asked in a small voice, he snapped and pointed at her smiling ear to ear.

“Jo Buchanan. Grate name! Jo Buchanan from Manhattan. It’s gotta ring to it! One of those, 'pay attention to me!' names. A name to remember.” his smile was infectious, and Joey found herself smiling along caught up in the moment, he then snapped pointing to the dress,”Tonight you work for me, got it Jo.” he said in a just a bit under natural speaking voice, she blinked coming out of the trance he had put her in, as he lifted the silk of the dress. “Put it on.” she nearly dropped the dress, it didn’t feel right holding it in the first place and he wanted her to put it on?

“I don’t--” she was cut off, as he backed her into the wall. Her heart was in her throat, she wasn't sure if it was of fear or something else, maybe she ought to get that looked at. It couldn’t be natural to want to listen to this strange man to his conclusion.

“Look dollface, an offer like this don’t come around often.” he growled his voice dangerously low, she stared up at him in near horror as a realization floated to the front of her mind. Once a girl had warned her about a man like him, these club owners, they sucked the girls in with flashy smiles fast words and nice clothes. Joey wasn’t the kind of girl to be sucked into something like that.

It didn’t matter that they were days from being kicked to the curb, with no place to land. She wasn't like the other club girls, that used what they had to get all they could and were used worse by owners like him. “You gotta good face, great figure, and you gotta look to you that says I can take on the world.” A smile crawled its way onto his face. Joey wanted to smack herself because she realized she was holding her breath now. It was as if she wasn't in control of her own body but he was, his hand moved from her arm up her shoulder, to her chin tilting her head up so she was looking him in the eye, his thumb brushing her lower lip. “You’re out lookin’ for a job ain't ‘cha” his purr broke the trance, something about it made her mind come to a screaming halt. Fake. Her mind screamed. Though he had this natural sexual tension air to him, that purr was fake. And that was the ground she clung to as she reared back, stepping onto the battlefield he wasn’t aware he had laid out. She swatted his hand away glaring at him now, with all the malice she had for his kind.

“I don’t need ta be objectified by some sleaze ball club owner.” she snapped pushing off the wall behind her only to bump into his chest. He wasn’t moving, he was however smiling like he wasn’t before. All that courage she had gathered dashed in a second, she was left in awe at what that pure smile of his could manage. Where had all her fight gone?

“You know I should open a club.” he said as if filing something away in the back of his head. He pressed her back against the wall, he was warm, smelt like expensive cologne, and motor oil. “I need a fresh face doll.” his dark eyes ran over her face and his hand was back on her cheek. “All these suits know the dame’s that frequent these joints.” he let his hand fall to her neck she couldn’t glare harder if she tried.

“I’m not lookin’ for what you're thinkin’. I need ya to not drink, to remember all the names of the suits that speak to me, and to be the prudish little lady I know ya are.” his voice had taken on a joking quality, and she was done. She shoved him and sent him stumbling back a step, then two. He looked shocked she had even done it, not by the fact that she manage to move him. But the smile on his face told her he wasn’t going to get angry at her. She wasn't sure if that aggravated her more than his trampish behavior.

“I don’t know what you're playin’ at but I ain't for sell.” she spat at him and he started to laugh. She was furious. Now the fight back, she was clinging to it, she knew that feeling and was happy to have a friend in this battle. As she tossed the dress at him turning to bee-line it from the club, but he stopped her grabbing her wrist. She was about to start screaming when he beat her to the punch.

“I know doll. But no club will hire you.” his words cut her short, her own angry words held on her tongue as she looked over her shoulder at him. His eyes quickly scanned her, not in the dismissing factor that it appeared to be on the surface, but like a boxer taking stalk of who they're about to go rounds in a ring with. “Factory worker? You scream it. Seen as how your from Brooklyn, either cannery, or textile shippin’” he was so matter of fact, no pity there in his voice it threw her off. “Put the dress on, it’s French.” he said as if that would solve everything. She wanted to scream at him as he shoved the dress back at her.

Joey was at an unbelievable impasse in this moment and she just realized she was. She had lost the fight and she hadn’t even had a chance to get a swing in. He cut off all her fight with his simple statement and she was left standing there realizing her position in life. She needed the money, they were paying rent to two places and falling behind on both, winter was a few months off but it would be cold soon, and even though all of New York was in a daze because of the war across the pond, it would reach them soon enough. Men would be gone, she needed a job and needed one now, not in a few months, to make up for the guy’s being gone soon.

“Just that?” her voice had a weary edge to it, he was lighting a cigarette but she saw as he smiled at her, shoving his hand into his hair. “Just put the dress on, remember names, and…” she let it hang there as smoke billowed around him. That smile reached his eyes, something told her that didn’t happen often and it won her points in his book.

“Dance a few numbers with me, hang on my arm, and laugh at every funny thing I say.” he smirked taking a drag off his cigarette, she glared at him to hide her thinking.

“What do I get out of this?” her question almost sounded bored to her own ears as she busied herself looking the dress over. He moved into her space once more leaning down and whispering in her ear.

“A good time.” he purred making her roll her eyes, he was unbelievable if he thought that was ever going to happen.

“Gotta fella for that.” she snapped and held his eyes in a glare but this only made him smile and laugh.

“Fair enough, look make it through the night doll and I’ll give you a month's pay as a singer at the club here. And a ride home.” he said stepping back letting her have the floor now for whatever decision she wanted to make. Looking to the dress in her hands she couldn’t believe she had made up her mind. It wasn’t about the dress, it wasn’t about his smirk or his dark brown eyes. It was for the money, she couldn’t pass up money like that, they could do a world of things with that money.

Snapping at him “Can I change in a room?” he gave a slight nod pointing to a curtain. Marching over she stepped into the small changing room, looking at herself in the mirror she steeled her nerves.

“It’s for the money” she told herself, glaring at the curtain and the male that lie beyond it. It wasn’t that she couldn’t catch her breath or that his smile made her heart race. She wasn't one of those girls, she never was and never would be. She was rational and men like him used girls like her, so she would even the score and before he could use her she would use him.

The under dress was a classic bell shaped tulle ballet tutu. The top wrapped around her chest and belled out under her breasts, all the way down to her ankles. It was a pastel sky blue color and needed to be tied in the back. She had seen something like this in a magazine at the newsstand. A dress for high society women, she was lucky to even be near it and as she pulled it on she realized she couldn’t tie the back closed. Biting back a curse she rolled her eyes and peeked out of the curtain. Across the room he was looking in the mirror messing with his hair, rolling her blue eyes she cleared her throat.

He looked up at her, his hair flopping into his face he pushed it back and smiled. “Can you get the ties?” she asked shocked that she didn’t sound breathless. She had more ground to stand on she thought, as he crossed the room and pushed the red curtain out of the way. The dress called for her to forgo her bra so she held it close to her chest in the front. His fingers were warm over her shoulders, as he grabbed the ties and pulled tight allowing her to drop the front and adjust it to the correct angle. She refused to acknowledge that she was blushing and absolutely refused to look at him in the mirror.

Shockingly he was a gentleman about the whole endeavor, tieing up the laces. That was until his hands spread across her bare shoulders and he leaned over her shoulder, his breath ghosting across her neck and she could no longer deny she was blushing “Smashing color on you.” He whispered in her ear her eyes met his in the mirror and she gasped reaching quickly for the jacket and stepping from him in the small space.

The jacket was a sapphire blue that once on made her cut an elegant hour glass figure. Square shoulders, curved waist, and matched with the skirt, it made her look long and like a dancer. She stared at herself she looked like one of those girls in that magazine she had seen, there in the flesh and she nearly wanted to cry, it had never been a thought of hers to look as she did.

Before she could do anything he pulled her from the small room and sat her on the small stool. Joey nearly screamed as his hands snaked up under her dress, she was about to hit him when he lifted a shoe, high fashion, four inch heel shoes that no sain woman would dance in. Sapphire blue like the coat, they buckled on the side and he smiled as he put them on. Joey attempted to convince herself that she wasn’t fooled by him, that his warm hands did nothing to her. The way they slid down her stockings and paid attention to her ankles. When he was done he stood and pulled her up to stand. In his space this time, she stared up at him, even with the extra four inches he still towered over her.

He stepped away and returned with a hair band, it had a blue flower on it, just the color of the skirt and looking to the mirror she put it in her hair. A throwback to the time of the glittering New York blues singers who wore the head bands and it looked good in Joey’s hair.

Her makeup looked a bit light for the get up, spotting some makeup on the vanity she grabbed a dark lipstick applying the deep burgundy color, leaving her eye makeup because it seemed to fit the look. Taking a breath she turned to him and he had that lopsided smirk on his face that nearly stopped her heart.

“You nearly look like a dame I had in Paris.” his eyes were roaming over her, that hungry predatory look that didn’t involve the word fake. This caused Joey to laugh why she wasn’t sure, because in all honesty it set her skin on fire.  
“Oui monsieur!” Joey found herself saying her voice clear and crisp. Where her moxie came from she didn’t know but she prayed it didn’t run dry. “Je ne pense que je pourrais passer pour une de ces filles du monde.” she stated and put her hands on her hips he looked her over as if translating just a bit slower than she had said the words. A smile spread across his face and it was a look she had seen just a few times, one of those looks of a man at the horse races when his horse won.

“You speak French.” he held his arm out and she took it. To keep her balance she told herself, the shoes were a lot higher than she was used to. He was warm and for the first time she took note that his jacket though pinstriped was a very soft material, and she fought the urge to run her hands over it to feel the fabric against her skin.

“Oui. A woman in the factory only speaks French, she taught me.” she said matter of factly, as he began to lead her from the back room he stopped and stared at her.

“The correct answer is…” he started but she cut him off, a smile on her face.

“I studied dance, art, and finer culture in Southern France.” she looked him over as if he should know that and he chuckled at her pulling her along.

“Howard.” he said just before the blue curtain separating the back from the lively dance floor. “For this dance call me Howard, utter Howey and the deal’s off.” he wasn't joking and she knew that, but she smiled nonetheless because she had a feeling it settled him.

“Howey’s something a mother would call you. I’m not your mother.” She whispered to him, beside herself on her own forward behavior. This wasn’t Joey, she wasn't this kind of girl the kind that flirted and made eyes a men like Howard. Yet there she was, leaning into him as they walked down the steps, both smiling both breathing in each other.

“No, no you're not.” he winked at her and she laughed, all blushing well behind her as he lead her into the crowded floor and waiting company.

For the most part the night was a brilliant success. Howard did his part, he kept her on his arm, and whenever someone offered to dance with her he acted if they had made such a ludicrous statement that it should be ignored to it’s fullest. He drank near his weight in whatever he could get his hands on but didn’t get drunk, it was fascinating to watch and Joey suspected something was missing from that equation. They danced, Joey loved dancing, and Howard was a near perfect dancer, though his hands wandered it was endearing more than scandalous. And Joey did everything perfectly, or so Howard kept whispering to her.

‘What’s your name?’ a suit would ask

“Jo Buchanan.” she replied as if they should know but didn’t fault the poor man he was obviously more concerned with the blonde dancer.

‘Where you from doll?’ one would ask as Howard was in a heated whispering fit with another suit, who was losing.

“Manhattan.” she replied, obvious everyone was from Manhattan.

‘Any relation to the Buchanan's down Millionaires Row?’ an elder man asked looking her over she nearly tripped up but Howard was there. Coy smile on his face as he leaned over her “They're Playin’ our number toots.”

There was a moment of panic when a man appeared starting to speak French, but Jo jumped in full of confidence, the conversation was pleasant. For a woman who had never been to France she sure knew a lot of Southern France (where her friend had been from) the man was fooled well. Then declared if Howard had such a knowledgeable woman of fashion, he wanted to work with Howard.

The added bonus was Jo had some understanding of what was happening with the war, she made her opinion known to the man, the other men all chattering away about this and that. But Jo was honest and parroted some of her friend's words. “They shouldn’t act like big dogs, a bully’s a bully and it’s up to the better men to tell them to quit.”

Howard leaned over and whispered in her ear. “I may never let you go Jo.” he said and kissed her hand, she laughed at that, pretending that it was natural to be so close to him.

By time the night was ending Howard ushered her to his fancy car, much to the displeasure of her new found French friend and most of the suits, she had gotten them riled with talk of the war. As she climbed in and they drove off, Jo found she was smiling away as she sank into the leather seat. Howard stretched out next to her a smile on his face. He raked his hair from his face and turned to her as if he was seeing her for the first time.

“Doll you know how to work these chumps.” he was reflecting her own shock and it was starting to wear off, the spell that had settled over Joey as she was Jo Buchanan. However she was Joey Barn’s now and the high that the night left on her hummed in her head making her limbs slightly numb.

“I just followed your lead.” she answered in complete honesty he lit a cigarette and took a moment to watch the city roll by. He seemed to come to some point in his thoughts as he reached down to the floor board.

“Your dress.” he said offhandedly. The bag was the kind that department stores handed out with every purchase and Joey had seen the other girls carrying them around from time to time. “You can keep what you're wearing.” he let out a tired sigh. Joey picked up the fabric of the skirt and looked to him, his face asked her what the issue was and she smiled softly at him.

“I live in lower Brooklyn, this dress will not fit in.” with the blank filled in he smirked at her shrugged his shoulder but leaned forward to the driver.

“Pull over at the diner.” he called, the driver did and Howard helped her out. It was one of those all night joints that had some of the dancing crowd in, most to busy staring deep into each other's eyes than to pay them any mind. As she went to change Joey fully expected him to find a booth for them, only he followed her, she almost asked why when she remembered the ties in the back of her dress.

He stood hands in his pockets as she pulled off her coat. And he in "Howard fashion" (she was honestly getting used to it) leaned over her shoulder. “You know.” his hands on her bare shoulders, sliding to the ties and lingering there “You could come back to my place.” He whispered leaning forward, his breath on the back of her neck, she could almost feel his lips there. It took everything in her to not melt into his hands, not to lean back to take him up on his offer.

“I’ve been out all night, my roommate won't be to happy.” she whispered a smile finding her face as he kissed her neck and her eyes closed, biting her lip in response to keep her breathing even and her resolve strong.

“She can join.” his voice was low and there was no hint of the voice that had dealt with the suits at the club. Joey wondered for half a second if Howard was so sure he wanted to join anything. That thought passed as his hands started to slide down her sides.

“HE, won't want to.” Joey said with a slight chuckle over her shoulder. Howard’s eyebrow shot up, his smile contagious as he lifted a shoulder as to say ‘his loss’.

“Your fella?” he asked but it wasn't meant to be answered. He then began to untie the laces, Joey put her hand on her chest to keep herself covered as the dress began to slip. “Your folks don’t mind you're livin’ in before marriage?” he asked, that question was so loaded she couldn't help the roll of her eyes.

“Got no folks to mind.” she tossed over her shoulder, he leaned close and was about to say something but she cut him off. “And...I am married” she felt him freeze for half a second, but the sensation passes as he pressed his lips to the back of her neck, then pulled her against him his arms wrapping around her.He was warm, smelt like motor oil and cigars, a smile spread across her face as one of his hands slid down her side pulling to hike her skirt up.

“Sorry to hear that.” he whispered into her ear, taking it into his mouth she closed her eyes, then realized they were in a very public bathroom. Stepping away from Howard took all the power she could muster.

“I have to change.” she said a bit breathlessly. He chuckled as she heard the door close behind him leaving her alone in the bathroom. Joey’s knees almost buckled and she leaned on the cool tile wall catching herself in the mirror. She looked strange standing there, holding the blue dress to herself flushing red and looking nothing like the woman she knew she was. Biting her lip she shook herself out of the thought and reached for the shopping bag that contained HER dress and HER clothes. Task at hand Joey set to work on changing.

Back in her dress and her silver shoes, feeling like Joey again, Jo was stuffed into the bag with the ornate dress. Glancing up to the mirror she sighed pulling the headband from her hair and ruffled her strawberry blonde mess as it fell limp back into it’s place. Joey walked out from the bathroom, bag in her arms looking around the diner, Howard had found a booth along the wall and shockingly didn’t look out of place even in his suit. He had bought her some coffee and was scribbling something on a napkin. They didn’t talk as Joey sat down across from him and drank her coffee, she knew she needed to head home but she had a feeling Howard wasn’t done with her yet. After a short silent stint and a refill on the coffee he looked up and asked her about the night as if he wasn’t there at all. She told him the names of all the suits he spoke to and he jotted them down and a few notes with each of them, Joey watched him with a slight awe as she sat back looking the list over and listening to her say a few things on each. Then he decided she needed to get up and go, they weren’t far from her neighborhood, and where this diner was no one would recognize her. So Joey insisted that she walk home, just a few blocks and she would be in an area where everyone knew her well.

“Sure I can’t give you a ride?” Howard asked standing beside his shining black car. He was lighting a cigarette and his driver was running around to hold the door open for him and taking the bag Joey offered him.

“A car like this, in my neighborhood would turn heads.” Joey ran a hand absently through her hair and held her purse close to herself to keep the night chill off. “And let’s not think of the noise it’d make with me gettin’ out of it.” She sighed rolling her eyes watching some people walking down the sidewalk across the street, anywhere, but Howard at this moment. Her thick Brooklyn accent back in place were it belonged, Howard gave a small smirk to her waving his hand at the car and she sighed, a small smile playing on her lips as she shook her head her mind made up. “Na, he’d have a fit if I didn’t come home.” She said rubbing her arms, no need to elaborate more than that and Howard laughed at her. Some joke gone untold, Joey almost wanted to know what the joke was, but left it alone and started to walk backwards least her resolve waver.

“I may look ya up some time dollface.” Howard said leaning on the door his eyes roaming over her but there was oddly nothing sexual about the act, in complete contrast to the tone of his voice and his actions not twenty minutes ago.

“Be sure to dress down and leave the ride down the street.” Joey’s tone was joking there was no way she would see this man again. She turned then as he tapped his head as if saying he would remember, she was halfway down the block when she was stopped short by his calling out to her.

“JO!” turning she saw he hadn’t moved from his leaning over the door, his voice hardly raised on the near deserted dark street. “You’re a different kinda dame!” he called tossing his cigarette to the street. She couldn’t help but smile rolling her eyes knowing he couldn’t see her, she put her hand on her hip anyway and the words were out before she could stop them.

“And you're not a total sleeze ball.” she replied, this sent his head back in roaring laughed. He slid into his car and it drove off, past her, around the corner and out of sight. Joey couldn’t keep the smile off her face as she walked home. Walking down the silent Brooklyn street, she had spent the night dancing in the very glitz and glam of New York City and it was something she wasn’t soon to forget about.

**Author's Note:**

> This story can either stand alone as a strange one shot or be the first chapter in a story. I’m not sure how this will be received and I wanted to leave that option there.


End file.
